


show me yours (and I'll show you mine)

by Ejunkiet



Series: ménage à trois [2]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, a little bit of everything if I'm being honest, aka the holiday special that wasn't going to happen (but did), but with feelings, honestly a lot more tender than I was intending, reunions (mission related)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28944645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/Ejunkiet
Summary: Morgan has been away for two months.--"Look at you,” she murmurs, quiet enough that Pearl nearly doesn’t catch it, dark eyes glinting in the low light, shifting as she takes her in. She hovers there a moment, her gaze flickering over her, eyes heavy lidded, dark as pitch. “Shit.”
Relationships: Female Detective/Morgan (The Wayhaven Chronicles)
Series: ménage à trois [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122905
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	show me yours (and I'll show you mine)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a side story / sort-of-sequel / holiday special that was started to celebrate 'make me an offer' reaching 69 kudos (heh), and kind of spiralled from there. 
> 
> This has been sitting in my docs for a month or so now, but I dug it out to help the wayhaven chronicles tag on ao3 hit 1K works. 
> 
> And we're the 1000th fic. ;D Congratulations, all!

“Lie back, sweetheart.”

Morgan’s voice is a low purr, soft and enticing, her dark eyes flickering over her from her position at the foot of the bed. Her knees are splayed, the dark lines of her underwear stark against her tan skin, and Pearl can feel the hunger in her stare, in the coiled lines of her body, as she waits.

\--

It’s been - a while, since they’ve done this. The unit had been called away for a mission that required their skillset, leaving her and Wayhaven in the capable hands of Unit Alpha - a decision that had angered Adam, to be sure, but was only a temporary measure. Or rather, it had been _meant_ as only a temporary measure.

Two months later, the negotiations finally completed, Unit Bravo had been allowed to return to the area - and that first night had found Morgan outside of Pearl’s apartment, something glinting and unreadable in her stare as she waited to be invited up.

(She always waited, always asked, always made sure that she felt _safe_ when they were together - and she does, she did.)

Once inside of her apartment and after she’d been asked if she wanted anything (“much, if you’re offering”), it doesn’t take long for her to close the distance between them, crowding her against the kitchen counter. 

She’s ditched her outer layers, tossing them carelessly to the floor until there’s just the thin layer of her burgundy henley between them, and she can feel the heat of her against her back as she presses closer, arms enclosing her, breath skating the back of her neck.

“Miss me, sweet thing?”

Warm palms find her waist, turning her, her mouth weaving a burning path along her throat, sharp kisses edged with teeth and softened by the soothing press of her tongue - until she’s too distracted to notice the path they’re taking through the apartment. 

Clever fingers work on the fastenings of her clothes, pulling aside her cardigan, thicker for this time of year, until her hands find skin and it’s a relief for both of them, the contact, after so long apart.

Morgan presses her against her bedroom door, unwilling to concede an inch as her mouth drags across her jaw to finally meet her mouth, a broken sigh leaving her lips at the contact, hand rising to tangle in her hair as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss.

She tastes like smoke, like she often does when she’s been away, although it fades quickly as she presses closer, the kiss turning consuming as her other hand slips beneath the hem of her dress, sliding along her thighs, a low growl building at the back of her throat at the thick material that separates them.

Breaking away from the kiss, Morgan levels her with a sharp stare, a dark brow rising. “You’ve not made this easy, sweetheart.”

Settling her hand against her waist, her fingers slide beneath the thick band of her tights, catching the heavy material between her fingertips. “What even _are_ these?”

Her cheeks burn as she tries to catch her breath, the flush of it spreading down her neck, catching the vampire’s attention as her grey stare traces it down her throat, a slow smile curling on her lips. “Winter clothes. It’s been getting colder, recently.”

“I must have been gone longer than I thought.”

The words are said carelessly, without thought, but they hit her more sharply than she thought they would. Still, she manages a smile as she meets the full weight of that stormy grey gaze. “You were.” 

She turns away, hand dropping to the door handle as she twists it open to let them into the room, and she can feel the weight of Morgan’s stare as she follows her inside.

The awkward air dispels as Morgan pauses in the doorway, dark eyes narrowing on the covered mirror in the corner. She’s kept the blanket there as a precaution - as much good as it would do in the face of any more intruders - but she feels safer, at least, with her privacy restored.

“Have you had any more unexpected visitors?” There’s a tightness in her expression when her gaze meets her once more, a strange light in their grey depths, stark amongst the pale flecks of colour that circle the iris.

(It’s not something they talk about often, but the reference is clear enough.)

The tension within her fades as Pearl shakes her head, “No. Not since the last time.”

Morgan steps forward, catching her around the waist and turning her as she pulls her back into her embrace, dipping low until she can brush her mouth against her ear. _“Good.”_

Her hand moves along her back, sliding up until she finds the zipper, treating the material with a surprising amount of care as she pulls it down. Her hands greedily press against the skin she reveals, followed by the heat of her mouth, and it’s not long until the dress is loose enough to fall to the floor.

Her mouth returns to her throat as her fingers play with the high waistband of her tights, skating the edge of her ribs, before her hand dips beneath it, slipping down until she brushes against her underwear as the other curls around her chest, fingers spreading across her sternum to keep her close. 

She hums into her ear as her fingers dip lower, teasing as Pearl swallows a gasp, biting hard on her lip. “You ready for me, sweet thing?”

She doesn’t wait for her response, hand slipping lower until she cups her intimately, her groan low and soft in her ear as Pearl gasps and arches against the touch. Her fingers move, curling against her, and Pearl can no longer hold back the sounds building in the back of her throat as she squeezes her eyes shut, hips tilting into her hand.

“That’s it,” she murmurs, her heated breath skating against the back of her neck as she sighs into her hair. “I missed you, sweetheart.”

The words are soft, almost lost on a breath, but clear enough in the space between them. Her heart thuds in her chest, once, twice - but before she has a chance to really process what they mean, Morgan is moving again, hands settling on her hips as she spins her around and crashes her mouth against hers.

This kiss is hungry and edged with need as she pushes them backwards towards the bed, palms grasping, seeking every inch of skin within reach. It doesn’t take long for them to reach the edge of the mattress, and with a muted growl, Morgan lifts her onto it, somehow managing to do so without breaking the kiss.

But it’s not enough.

Pulling back with a frustrated growl, Morgan yanks at her shirt, tossing the material to the floor, her movements sharp and jerky as she follows it with her jeans, kicked off and flung into the far corner, until she’s left in just her underwear and sports bra.

She’s beautiful in this light, sleek lines and lean muscle, freckles sprinkled like dust across her shoulders and chest. The dark lines of her simple underwear set emphasizes her curves, revealing a softness that’s normally hidden beneath dark layers and sharp words, the aura of unapproachability she builds around herself.

But here, there’s just her.

Morgan’s eyes are dark as she drops to her knees at the foot of the bed, hands moving to Pearl’s waistband as she pulls at the thick material of the tights, yanking them down until she can add them to the growing pile of clothing on the floor. 

She doesn’t rip them, although it’s a close thing, and Pearl thinks maybe she _wants_ her to as her hands drop to her thighs, fingers splayed, her warmth spreading to her skin. She never breaks contact as her hands slip upwards, finding purchase on her hips to pull her in sharply before settling on her waist.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, quiet enough that Pearl nearly doesn’t catch it, dark eyes glinting in the low light, shifting as she takes her in. She hovers there a moment, her gaze flickering over her, eyes heavy lidded, dark as pitch. “ _Shit_.”

She leans in, pressing her mouth to her stomach, trailing a searing path up her chest with lips and tongue and teeth until she reaches the edge of her bra, pulling down the material impatiently as she mouths at the curve of her breast before she takes her nipple into her mouth, and _oh._

She can’t help her gasp, reaching out to tangle her fingers in the dark locks of Morgan’s hair, a low rumble of appreciation reverberating from her at the movement as she reaches back, moving deftly to flick open the bra clasp until the material falls away, tossed backward onto the pile of clothing.

Morgan pulls back then, her hands sliding down to settle against the top of her thighs, her thumbs rubbing circles into the sensitive skin there, grey eyes dark and hungry as she swipes her tongue across her lower lip.

“Lie back, sweetheart.”

Things progress quickly from there.

\--

Later, exhausted, as they lie tangled within her sheets, her thoughts swirling around her, she gives voice to the worry that’s been following her these last few weeks, lingering at the edge of her thoughts.

“I wasn’t sure how long you’d be away,” she whispers into the dark, almost a confession, and it's safer that way, said to the shadows of the room rather than the vampire lying beside her.

Morgan hums, a low sound deep in her throat, her arms tightening around her waist, pressing her more fully into the curve of her body. “I wasn’t either. That’s just how it is with the agency. _”_

Her voice is wry, and there’s more behind that statement, an edge to the words that makes them sharp. Before she can really consider the implications of them through, the bed shifts and Morgan moves, the dark storm of her gaze meeting hers as her hands press to the mattress on either side of her head.

“Why do you ask?” The words are light, teasing, and there’s a glint in her eyes as her dark gaze travels over her, lingering on the marks she’d left on her throat and chest, love bites that will be dark against her skin in the morning. “Were you worried for me, sweet thing?”

It takes her a long moment to respond as she meets her gaze, her throat closing around her answer. Morgan lips twist into a frown, clearly not expecting this response - and she will know if Pearl lies, she always does.

_“Always.”_

It’s not something she thinks about, if she can help it. It’s a hollow inside of her chest that grows during unit bravo’s extended absences - a lingering fear that this will be the last time she sees them, sees _her._

It’s a reminder of just how limited their time together is; that someday this will end. 

(She doesn’t want it to. But that’s not her choice, not really. And besides, she's happy with what they have, more than happy with it, even if it's only transient-)

"Pearl." 

Morgan's watching her, she realises, her eyes dark as her mouth twists at the corners, and she flushes, turning her face to the side. A curled finger snags her chin and tilts her face upwards, until she can meet her gaze, steady and piercing.

“You worry too much, sweetheart.” She murmurs the words into the space between them, an unreadable light in her dark eyes as she traces her finger along her cheek. "And about the wrong things."

Holding her stare, she leans in, skating her mouth along her jaw and down to her throat, her breath a hot rush against her skin before she presses her mouth against her skin, right against where Pearl knows her scar is. 

Her breath leaves her in a shuddering rush, and it's a reminder of what came before, a memory of teeth and pain, but also a reminder of a promise, murmured on the threshold of her room almost a lifetime ago. 

_I won’t let anything happen to you, sweetheart._

Sliding her palm across her skin, Morgan's mouth drops to her chest, tasting the still cooling flush at the top of her chest, and it’s distracting enough that she misses her chance to respond, forgets to, until later, when it’s too late.

\--

The space beside her is empty in the morning, but there’s a note on her bedside, scrawled on the back of an old letter in a neat, tight cursive.

_I always come back. -M_


End file.
